The Power of the Narrative ~ pt 2 

Frankly, I have a bit of an aversion (really, a bias) toward static two-dimensional representational art. It seems dead to me in some way… the action occurred during the painting, which is now over.

I’ve always been jealous of some of the other forms of artistic expression. Sure, Bach is long dead and his manuscripts finished works. But every time a pianist takes one in hand there’s the sense that the art is being re-lived anew… the same with dance and theatre. Even a completed, architectural structure can be walked through and touched and felt in a four-dimensional experience. And it was terribly exciting for me as a young teen to discover Marcel Duchamp’s attempt to infuse time into a two-dimensional painting form, spawning the Futurism movement. Today, as I enter modern galleries and come across all sorts of moving, active installations, I experience some relief and joy. In each of these instances, a sense of re-living the creative experience through time is offered for the viewer/audience.

If representational art (for example a painting of an historical battle) could depict a novel, and design (for example, a logo) depict the climax alone, could the two combine into a kind of short-story-hybrid of visual art? And thereby, fuse the best of both worlds: the punch of design AND the lure of narrative?

Eye movement across a page, even rapidly, does mark the sequence of time, and therefore the possibility of a narrative. If the design artist unequivocally controls where the viewer’s eye starts, guides the eye rapidly along a singular, brief visual path to end at the only one destination the artist desires, s/he may have in fact achieved narrative within a design-rich format. Like a short story, the main plot elements are there, but drastically reduced to essentials.

The Power of the Narrative ~ pt 1 

There’s nothing like a good story. The power of the narrative comes up time and again through history, across all fields of discipline. A strong narrative takes control of the imagination’s journey through time.

Historically, representational art has been a highly accessible venue for telling the viewer a story: effectively giving shape to a circumstance, providing direction through a time sequence, and landing the viewer at the feet of conclusion, even if there are hints of varying opinions or shadows of unresolved elements present. It reminds me of plotting a storyline graph in grade 8 English class.

By contrast, design art at its most potent, is immediate. A unified, compelling image that arrests the eye and produces an instant stamp in the brain for future recognition is considered strong design. No time sequence, no lag for the mind (or eye) to wander or ponder… more like the single dot at the climax of the plotline.

But this difference between representational and design art bothers me. I love a good narrative. But I personally feel the pull more toward design than representational forms in my own artistic preferences. Is there a way to combine the best of both?

(to be continued)

A Fearsome Beauty 

“… the beauty we fed on was the beauty that threatened us.”
(“Surviving the Island of Grace” by Leslie Leyland Fields)

Some folks close their eyes and turn toward the rising sun to bask in its warmth and shimmering light. Others bend their knee toward a religious site in an act of homage. We turn to face experiences, loved ones and ideas that beckon to us, absorb us… that capture our heart and our mind.

Wherever I find myself for an extended period of time, I adjust my bearings, to determine which direction is north. I consider how many 100s of miles I am from the tree line in northern Canada, or the distance to that artificial longitudinal marking known as the Arctic Circle. The mythologies, adventures and the natural forces associated with the arctic region fascinate me. I am drawn to a beauty, a wonder, a magnificence of people, nature and survival that’s at once enthralling and terrifying.

Artistic Expression ~ pt 2 

As I watch modern novelists, popular musicians and visual artists break down familiar structures of communication and seek to convey a message or experience in a new format, I am struck by two conflicting responses.

One: I applaud the artist/author for seeking new limits to his/her craft, an age-old creative urge that can spawn amazing newness. And so, I’m intrigued to discover what they did and how they did it.

Two: Or, I scratch my head at the cryptic images and layers of meaning and wonder if the king, in fact, has no clothes on. Am I just too old, too established, too liberal, too female, too wealthy, too poor, too middle-class, too married, too individual, too parent, too child, too western, too northern, too alien to understand? If the artist’s language is indecipherable to me, should I be offended that I’m not the chosen audience? Should I be worried that I don’t understand something that may be very important to understand? Does the artist have any responsibility to communicate with me?

I hope, as an artist, that I work from inspiration to offer something that has meaning to another. I hope I don’t succumb to invention. I hope my art does not become a private, self-centered act of worship.

Artistic Expression ~ pt 1 

“The best of them [modernists] are doing what honest painters have always done, which is to paint the inner vision, or to bring the inner vision to some outer subject. But in an earlier day the inner vision presented itself in a coherent language of mythological or religious terms, and now both mythology and religion are powerless to move the modern mind. So – the search for the inner vision must be direct. The artist solicits and implores something from the realm of what the psychoanalysts, who are the great magicians of our day, call the Unconscious, though it is actually the Most Conscious. And what they fish up – what the Unconscious hangs on the end of the hook the artists drop into the great well in which art has its being – may be very fine, but they express it in a language more or less private. It is not the language of mythology or religion. And the great danger is that such a private language is perilously easy to fake… and I don’t need to tell you the difference between invention and inspiration.”
(“What’s Bred in the Bone”, excerpt from Part Five by Robertson Davies, 1985)

(to be continued)

Freedom of Speech 

What is freedom of speech? Freedom to be honest and have integrity to clearly articulate what I think: this is a great freedom.

But what about all the thoughts/ideas that the limitations of my particular language cannot begin to give shape to and yet, might have value… maybe even tremendous value? And what if the staggering volume of my verbage (talking, listening, texting, emailing, facebooking and yes, blogging) stifles those truths from lingering long enough in the back of my restless mind, to give me pause and cause me to consider how to give that truth structure, through another medium or lexicon? And what if words are not just another cultural luxury that can be piled-up and discarded along with my old ipod and shopping bags, but actually have weight, value… are expensive… cannot be returned?